


Deny Me

by Aspidities



Series: Smutcation Quickies [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: BDSM, College AU, F/F, Fingerfucking, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Vaginal Fingering, pwp basically, quick smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspidities/pseuds/Aspidities
Summary: Clarke asks Lexa to not let her cum and gets a world more than she bargained for.(Part of my Smutcation Quickie! Series of works)





	Deny Me

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Smutcation Quickies! These are 1500-3000 word one shots for various fandoms, as a way to keep myself motivated during my long two weeks off. 
> 
> Please check out my [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bitterbones87) for more info, to suggest a quickie prompt, or to keep up on updates!

“Oh _God_ ,” Clarke gasped, feeling her body quake as Lexa withdrew from her quivering, soaked slit, her fingers red and wet with her overflowing pleasure. “How do you _do_ that?” She asked, twining her fingers in Lexa’s sweat-coarse hair with trembling hands as the other girl settled onto her with an exhausted groan. “God, how do you make me….”

“Cum like that?” Lexa asked into her breasts, her voice a tired rasp with only a hint of playfulness left.

“ _Yes_.” Clarke moaned for emphasis, shifting her hips below the warm weight of her lover. “It’s like you always know exactly what to do, how to make it happen…” A dark, red-suffused thought occurred to her and she blushed, stalling her words.

The nerves must have transmitted to Lexa through her skin, because she lifted her tousled brunette head and looked at Clarke questioningly. Her lips were glazed with the dewy remnants of Clarke’s earlier pleasure and the sight sent another thrill through the blonde’s sore sex. Those forest-green eyes searched hers, and as usual, seemed to bore right into her soul.

“I appreciate you appreciating my skills, baby,” Lexa offered. “But it seems like you’re trying to get at something else here…?”

 _Damn psych majors_. Clarke internally cursed, and externally, bit her lip. “Do you ever want to…” she flailed, searching for the least-embarrassing way to ask, and, not finding it, blundered on: “Doyoueverwanttonotletmecum?”

Lexa blinked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite-“

“Do you ever want to _not_ let me cum? Or make me beg for it?” Clarke allotted each word through clenched teeth. She put her hand over her mouth immediately afterward, as if she could eradicate the sentence posthumously, but a slow smile was already spreading over Lexa’s face. _Oh shit_ , she thought, and rolled her eyes, jetting out her lip at the steadily grinning brunette. “Don’t get smug. It was a question.”

“Oh but _what_ a question-ow!” Lexa rubbed her arm where Clarke had punched her, but her eyebrows didn’t go down. “‘Do I ever _not_ want to let you cum?’ Hmmm…well, I could.” She lifted her gaze to Clarke’s, assessing. “But you know I usually like it when you cum.”

“You usually cum when I do.” Clarke pointed out, and felt another thrum of desire, which was extraordinary given the overworked state of her insides. She leaned into Lexa’s stroking hand; her lover had begun absentmindedly tracing the line of her jaw.

“I do.” Lexa confirmed in a rumbling, dark-velvet voice. Her hips shifted, and again, Clarke sucked in a breath as her skin tingled. “Feels too damn good when you clench on my fingers. Or my tongue.” She purred that out beside Clarke’s ear, along her pulse.

“Don’t start,” Clarke protested, but it was halfhearted: she squirmed to feel the teeth graze her throat. “Haven’t you had enough?” But it came out as a raspy squeak.

“Never.” Lexa assured her, dark eyes lifting to hers. She looked lovingly down at Clarke for a moment, and then an evil expression flitted across her normally-composed face. “But maybe _you_ have…”

Clarke rolled her eyes for what was definitely not going to be the last time that night. “I should never have told you that.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have.” Lexa nodded smartly. “Because I’m going to take advantage. At the very next opportunity.”

“Lexa, please don’t make me regret-“

“Oh, but I _will_.” The lecherous expression on the brunette’s face was enough to make Clarke groan and flop back on the pillows, hand over her face.

The rest of that night was a reprieve, thankfully. Clarke even thought that Lexa might have forgotten about it by the morning, when she was cheerfully chasing the blonde around the kitchen with a jam-soaked English muffin. A week went by before they could see each other again, thanks to midterms, and that was surely enough time to let it pass through Lexa’s mind….

Or so she deeply hoped.

After a simple-but-sweet date at home, listening to old Fleetwood Mac records and cooking each other dinner, Lexa was doing the clean up (as she often insisted, even at Clarke’s place) and Clarke was reclining on the couch with a joint, taking little hits as she watched a silent movie on Netflix. Her roommates, Raven and Octavia, were out with their respective boyfriends for the evening, and had left her a little pre-roll as a present. She waved it at the taciturn brunette as she passed by the couch, toweling her hands, but Lexa shook her head, and went into Clarke’s bedroom, strangely enough, instead of sitting on the couch. The blonde craned her neck and coughed, calling after her: “Hey, whatcha doin in there?”

“None of your bus-i-ness!” Lexa sang back, and there was a soft shuffling and thumping noise accompanying her movements. Clarke couldn’t see what she was doing, and thanks to a mild ‘couch lock’ from the weed, she was inhibited from really wanting to try.

“It’s _my_ room!” She pointed out, but it wasn’t at full strength. Lexa was going to do whatever she wanted to do, and she’d learned that by now. They’d been dating long enough that Clarke knew Lexa was bullheaded when it came to certain matters. Hell, she was too. It was part of the attraction, frankly.

She’d forgotten all about what she’d requested of Lexa a week ago until she finally sauntered into the bedroom to see what was going on. There, she felt her jaw drop slightly. Candles were flickering around the various shelves, enough to start a fire if they were left unattended. _Lexa and her damn candles_ …but the thought fled as soon as she saw the bed, where red nylon rope was knotted intricately in four, wrist-or-ankle-shaped loops to the ends of her frame. _Oh shit._

“Hi sweetie,” Lexa purred from behind her, making Clarke jump a little. “Did you remember how you asked me to not let you cum? Well, I figured a little bit of rope might help…” She chuckled, low and chocolate-dark, and it was sending shivers down Clarke’s spine.

“Oh _shit._ ” Clarke said out loud, swallowing. “You remembered that.”

“Oh yes, I did.” Lexa confirmed, eyes glittering.

“Well, listen, I didn’t-“

“ _Shhh_ …” Lexa’s finger ghosted over her lips, smelling of highlighter ink and the basil she’d chopped for pasta earlier. “I’m gonna make it fun for you, I promise. And you will get to cum.” Her smile turned up at the corners like a cat’s. “ _Eventually_.”

Wetness flooded Clarke’s panties in a heartbeat, heating her skin and sending a flush through her chest. She shivered, and bit back a whine. “Lexa…”

Lexa wasn’t listening, however, as she veered closer to the quivering blonde and scented her pulse again, lifting her lips over her teeth as she inhaled. The primal display had Clarke’s thighs dripping with her enthusiasm as her underwear became a flood plain. She slid her shirt over her head without thinking, and wiggled out of her gym shorts, leaving herself almost naked as she’d taken her bra off earlier.

“Lay down.” The brunette whispered commandingly, and, despite never having felt much desire to obey anyone before, Clarke did as she was told, crawling back on her elbows so she could watch Lexa watch her doing it. The psych major growled appreciatively, and shucked her flannel, shimmying out of her jeans as Clarke rose up to watch.

“ _Fuck_ , you look good, let me-“ Clarke groaned and wet her lips, but was surprised by Lexa’s hand pushing her smartly back to the bed.

“Stay down.” Lexa chastised, and looped the soft red cord around her wrists, complaining: “See, this is why the ropes were necessary.”

Clarke tugged experimentally while Lexa moved down to her ankles. “Don’t you want to take my panties off first?” She asked, giving her best ‘Lexa-give-in-to-me’ pout.

It was a five star pout; it usually worked for everything from cafeteria fries to quickies in the hallway while her roommates watched a movie. But it wasn’t doing the trick this time. Lexa just smiled smugly at her ( _damn_ that smile) and pulled her ankle through first one loop, then the other, tightening the smooth cord. As the nylon slid across her skin, Clarke began to pant, heavily, feeling the impact of being restrained race fire and ice through her nerves. It was, at once, maddening and delighting, imprisoning and freeing….a sensation she’d never felt before. She pulled on her bonds, flexing her fingers against the soft rope, and felt her heart clench as it pulled taut once more.

“I’m gonna leave your panties on,” Lexa explained, in that soft, low voice that did fluttery things to her stomach, as she went around the bed, tightening each bond. Her arms flexed under their encircling pauldrons of ink, tattooed in dark black and grey circles that overlapped, interconnecting. They entrapped Clarke’s gaze, binding her just as thoroughly as the nylon. “I’m gonna leave ‘em on until you _beg_ me to tear them off.”

“Fuck,” Clark whispered, feeling Lexa’s fingers whisper over her thighs, up from the rope at her ankles, trailing the pearly-smooth backs of her nails against the overheated, haphazardly-shaved skin. “B-but I like these panties.” She joked, nervously, as Lexa’s breath followed her hands.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” Lexa rumbled, low and throaty, and it sent another delicious shiver through her to feel Lexa’s breath so close to her clit, so achingly close…

She jerked her hips up, unthinking, but she should have known. Lexa shied away, smirking, and Clarke whined in frustration, pulling at her bonds and twisting. She felt the tendrils of hot breath dampen her panties again, and the moan lifted from her lips like a prayer, but Lexa didn’t answer, skating her breath over to Clarke’s hipbones, where she knelt and nipped at the skin just below the dip there, sucking and drawing until a purplish mark greeted her lips.

Clarke’s moans began thick and fast then, as Lexa teased her without ever touching her pussy. Drawing her fingers around the edges of Clarke’s plain-Jane black cotton panties (she would’ve worn pretty ones if she’d known Lexa had a bondage session in mind, but she was mildly grateful that these would be the ones sacrificed when she ultimately begged Lexa to rip them off her) to flicker teasingly along the crease of her thigh, she’d dip back to Clarke’s knees, kissing the soft skin behind them… only to allow her hair to brush along that same hallowed crevice again. The slight teasing tickle was enough to make Clarke almost scream in frustration and yank at her bonds, but again, Lexa only laughed and moved on.

Finally, she allowed her lips to graze over the soaked fabric of Clarke’s cotton-covered sex, and the blonde moaned gratefully, shifting her hips as she expected more contact, but Lexa immediately made her regret the gratitude as she only upped her teasing right along with the increased pressure. Now she was pressing her fingers along Clarke’s inner lips, stroking lightly, but the screaming agony of the way her fingertips would graze the tip of her hood and then retreat was a crucible, to be sure.

It was nothing, however, compared to when Lexa dropped her lips and let her tongue circle the aching pearl of her clit through the fabric, slithering away as soon as blood raced to her hood, swelling it. She cried out, gasping, but Lexa only smiled that infuriating smile again at her, and circled her clit once more. Clarke moaned and wept, tossing until her hair was sweat-matted into knots, and pleas fell from her lips like rain.

“Please _pleasepleasplease_ ,” She sobbed, chanting mindlessly as her hips bucked for fruitless grasps of pressure. “Oh god Lexa _pleeeease_ …!”

“Please what?” Lexa asked mockingly, and Clarke normally would’ve wanted to slap her for that smug look, but she was too far gone. She only whimpered and pulled again at her bonds, arching.

“Please take my panties off. I don’t care if you have to rip them…just _do_ it, oh God _please_.”

Lexa shushed her, soothing with a finger tracing her clit’s hood through the fabric, teasing the straining bud. She reached under the bed absentmindedly with one hand, and groped until she found something, which she produced proudly to Clarke’s tear-blurred view. It was a pair of black scissor-looking things, almost ominously medical. Clarke’s eyes widened, until Lexa explained.

“Safety shears.” She said, showing them closer to the blonde. “I bought them with the rope. Y’know, in case you needed out or got too freaked out.” She shrugged. “I thought it was helpful.”

Clarke’s heart seized briefly. _I think I love you for that_. She thought, wildly. It was a sweet gesture, and it showed Lexa’s true character, no matter the smug dominant show she was putting on at the moment, but Clarke’s hips bucked impatiently and she whined again, no longer concerned and back to feeling desperate. “God, just cut them off,” she demanded, breath coming in short pants.

Lexa waved the shears at her. “You sure?”

“Please,” she begged, tears coming to her eyes. “I need you.”

That did the trick better than any pout. The cold metal flashed on her skin and then the cotton was pulling away from her damp flesh in two pieces, exposing her to the blessed relief and mingled agony of the cool night air. She clenched her fingers in the rope, digging with her nails, and tried to lift her hips as much as she could to offer herself back to Lexa’s intoxicating, infuriating mouth, but the brunette held her down, almost idly, and leaned to bite at her thighs, tasting the droplets of her overflow that had made their way down. Lexa moaned, letting her tongue sweep out to collect the dew dripping from Clarke’s lower lips, and the blonde wailed in frustrated agony, twisting in her confinement.

Two fingers slid inside of her, all at once, suddenly overwhelming, while Lexa’s lips played whisperingly over her clit, not quite touching. Clarke gasped, and sucked in a breath as she felt the fingers twist and curl inside her, her heart thudding rapidfire in her chest. They pumped lazily against her g-spot and then withdrew, leaving her achingly empty, and she cried out, gasping until the fingers returned, and began a slow, far-too-gentle rhythm.

“Please oh please, oh god Lexa fuck me, _pleasefuckme_ ,” she chanted, and was soon gone with the wind like Scarlett fucking O’Hara as the brunette complied, speeding up the tempo of her thrusts.

“Remember, you’re not allowed to cum unless I say so.” Lexa reminded her, sharp as ever, as her tongue snaked around Clarke’s clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through the bound blonde.

Clarke nodded jerkily to show she understood but the only thing that came from her mouth was screams. Absolute screaming was all she could do at this point. She hoped her neighbors couldn’t hear this cacophony but chances were good they could. She wailed and thrashed and bucked and screamed like a cat in heat, but Lexa never relented. Never.

Finally, Clarke was beyond words, beyond need. She was panting, her throat sore and raw, and she rasped out the words that she hoped would end her torment: “Please, please _Lexa let me cum_ …!”

Lexa paused in her tongue-lashing ministrations to Clarke’s aching, reddened clit, and the blonde almost died right there in sheer frustration as the lithe brunette cocked her head, appearing to consider.

“We-elll,” she dragged it out, tapping her chin as a strand of Clarke’s wetness clung to her fingers. “I suppose… _yes_ ….you have been a good girl.” Her smile turned savage again and she thrust her fingers back inside once more, wrenching a deep moan and an arch from Clarke.

The brunette dropped her head then, and her lips fastened on Clarke’s swollen, begging clit, her tongue lashing as her fingers simultaneously curled, and the combo of all three sensations tipped Clarke’s frantically-waiting body right over the edge. She screamed, the longest and loudest so far, and her whole body slammed upwards to meet Lexa’s mouth, toes curling and eyelids fluttering as waves of shocking, electrifying pleasure shot through her from her center to her fingertips.

“Fuck!” Clarke screamed, inelegant. “Oh God, _Lexaaaaaa_!”

The orgasm went on for a long, long time. Clarke didn’t even remember her name for a few long, lazy seconds afterwards, and then reality came flooding back as she panted for air, chest heaving. Her pussy quivered and clenched, not wanting to release Lexa’s fingers from its grip just yet, so the brunette left them inside and collapsed on Clarke’s sweat-streaked skin, nestling her face into the blonde’s plush stomach...until finally her aftershocks reduced to trembles and the brunette could let her fingers slip free.

When she recovered the ability to speak, she croaked, and then coughed, trying to get her voice back to a somewhat reasonable state. “That was…”

“Amazing.” Lexa finished for her, turning to look up at her eyes. “Am I right?”

“Oh yes,” Clarke confirmed, laughing shakily. “I have all kinds of praise for you…and also many questions about how you learned to tie these knots, but first….” She raised a manacled wrist, indicating.

“Oh right, sorry babe.” Lexa leaned to give her a quick kiss, and fumbled for the shears.

When she was free, rubbing the red marks on her wrists and ankles, Clarke turned to Lexa with a meaningful look. “Okay _babe_ ,” she simpered, crawling until Lexa was backed against the headboard. “How’s about turnabout is fair play?”

“Clarke, what are you-“ Lexa protested, throwing up her hands and scrambling back. “Hey, hey now. You asked for me to do that, remember?” 

“‘Hey, hey now’.” Clarke mocked back. “What’s a-matter, Lexa? Scared of little ol me?” She raised the remnant of nylon rope, enough for another set of cuffs, and snapped it menacingly, advancing.

“Clarke, _no!_ ”

There was a large crash as the bedside lamp toppled over, but neither occupant of the bed noticed. They were busy with….other pursuits. There was a muffled thump. Then a moan, and then a gasp.

It was going to be a long, loud night for the neighbors.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bitterbones87) for more info on how to submit prompts and to keep me motivated to produce more!


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